Nipped in the Bud (28 page)

Charlie nodded. “She was whacked with a shovel, just like Bud. People are already speculating you did her in.”

Before I could recover from my shock and defend myself, my phone rang.

Thankful for the interruption, I dredged up a dismissing tone and said, “Excuse me.”

Charlie walked off, and I pulled out my cell. Why was Adam calling? He was due here any minute. Had he changed his mind? My stomach, in knots from the news of Stacey, clenched tighter at the thought of Adam blowing me off.

“Hey,” I said with a hopeful tone. “You still coming or is there a problem?”

“I’m here already. I’m trying to find a parking space, but I thought you might want to hear about this right away. Frankie just called.
Told me
Picklemann
left all his money to Stacey except for a trust fund for each of his kids.
The wife isn’t getting a penny.”

“Oh,
my gosh
,” I shouted, sending Mr. T into a fit of flapping feathers. I told Adam about my conversation with Stacey and her subsequent murder. “It must be Rachel. She must have killed Stacey when she heard about Bud’s will.”

“We need to call Lawson.”

For once, I agreed. “I’ll call him as soon as I hang up.”

“Keep your eyes open, Paige. If Stacey told Rachel that you knew about their affair, Rachel could come after you.” As his dire tone sunk in, a horn honked in the background.
“Crazy drivers!
Where’s a parking space when you need one?” After another warning to be careful, he clicked off.

“Book ’
em
,
Danno
,” Mr. T squawked.

Planning to shush my feathered friend, I looked at him. My eyes flashed wide. Rachel
Picklemann
, hair frizzed and eyes wild, stood at the front of my booth. I met her stare and she laughed.

“So you have it all figured out, huh,” she said, in much the same tone she used in high school when she confronted me about stealing her prom date. “Well, it won’t do you any good.” She eased closer and poked the tip of a gun out from under a coat draped on her arm.

I gasped and searched around for help. Briny seemed to be watching, but he didn’t take any action. I jerked my head, encouraging him to come forward. Rachel came around the front of the table and blocked my view of Briny.

“Don’t do this, Rachel,” I begged like a child in a candy store. “There’s no point. You obviously heard my conversation. Others have figured out you killed Bud and Stacey. Don’t add another person to the list.” I looked at Mr. T, wishing I could somehow communicate my problem to the bird. He wanted to butt in all the time when I wasn’t in danger. Now, he watched us with barely any interest.

“
Ahh
, poor Paige.
If only I was as stupid at you think. I have this all planned out.” She glared at me. “You killed Bud. Stacey found out. You killed her and then, sadly, so distraught over your behavior, you took your own life.” She pulled out a folded piece of paper from her pocket. A quick shake of her hand and it opened. She spread the paper smooth on the table. “I have your suicide note right here. Go ahead. Sign it.”

I stood slowly, hoping to delay long enough for Adam to find a parking space and come to my rescue.

“Now.”
She jiggled the gun.

Certain she wouldn’t shoot me right there in full view, I planted my feet with an exaggerated emphasis.

She didn’t react as I’d hoped. Instead of looking frustrated over my defiance, she shrugged and said, “Not a good idea to peeve me off, Paige.
Unless you want me to leave and go in search of Lisa’s precious twins instead of you.”

Her lifeless tone and glassy eyes convinced me she was serious. She’d killed two people and had nothing to lose. She would go after the girls, encounter Lisa, who would put up a fight, and I would keep my life but lose the people who made it worth living.

“Fine,” I said and crossed the space to scribble my name on the paper. I had no idea what I was signing, but at this point, it really didn’t matter. I would sign anything to keep Rachel away from Lisa’s family.

She jerked her head toward the rear of the booth. “Okay, step back.”

I complied, and she snatched up the paper. After refolding the page, she shoved it back into her pocket. Clamping her free hand on my elbow, she jabbed the gun into my back and gave me a shove. “Let’s go. I think a trip to the fun house might be just what you need to cheer up.”

The pressure of her gun directed me forward and into the crowd. I frantically looked around for help.
Anyone who could help.
Wait, Briny. There he was. He might be my last chance. I needed him to see me. His head faced in my direction, but he was surrounded by children and would have a difficult time escaping their clutches to help me. Still, I cut my eyes wildly, trying to signal for him to follow us. He stood fixed in the circle of children, and I had no idea if he saw me.

We wound through the crowd. I dragged my feet. Rachel shoved the gun in more forcefully, surely bruising my flesh. I winced and sped up to her frenetic pace, trying to signal my despair to anyone who looked at me. The few people who did make eye contact cut their gazes away with the speed that told me they were certain I was a killer. You’d think someone would find it odd that I, the number one suspect, was so chummy with the deceased’s wife. No one approached. Why leave me alone now? Why couldn’t they be nosy as usual?

My heart plummeted to my stomach. I was all alone. No one would come to my rescue.

With a jerk on my elbow, Rachel aimed me to the right, leaving the crowd behind and
circling
to the back of the fun house. She dragged me through a maze of back hallways until she stopped behind a row of mirrors.

“Here,” she said and shoved the note into my hands. “Stick it in your pocket.”

While I complied, she searched around, likely needing to confirm that we were alone so she could kill without an audience. Keeping her gun trained on me and eyes glancing at me every few seconds, she strolled to a far corner.

I let my gaze dart about the room. From the other side of the wide space, I spotted Briny as he entered. I stifled the desire to cry out with joy and flashed my eyes in Rachel’s direction.

Briny, the smartest pickle in all the land, slipped behind a wall.

Rachel sauntered toward me as if she were strolling through the park, not coming back to murder me. “Perfect. We’re alone. Sit down, and we’ll make this quick.”

As she fixed the gun on my chest, I panicked. What could make her stop before she killed again? She felt alone, abandoned by Bud. But she still had children. That’s it. “Think of your children, Rachel. You don’t want them to have to live with the fact that you killed me, do you?”

She appeared to ponder my question as her eyes focused more than they had since she arrived, and her face softened a bit. I risked a quick look at Briny’s hiding space. I needed to distract Rachel so he could jump out and save the day.

I opened my mouth to talk when suddenly she shook her head as if clearing out a vision and yelled, “I said sit!” She jerked the gun.

I slowly slid to the floor. Rachel, eyes fixed on me, didn’t see Briny hurtle from his hiding place. He crashed his pickled head into Rachel like a ball into bowling pins. Rachel shot into the air. Her arm hit the wall, and the gun went flying.

The pair tussled. I jumped to my feet and retrieved the gun. The sight of a giant pickle fighting with Rachel was enjoyable, and I wanted to let them duke it out. With a sudden surge, Briny’s head flew off. He—what?—she could get hurt.

“Enough, Rachel,” I yelled and pointed the gun at her. “I have the gun.”

My voice cut through their struggle, and they stopped wrestling. Briny climbed on top of Rachel and held up her arm like a victor. I stared at the new Briny. Atop a long neck flowed blond—almost white hair, a stunning face with an aquiline nose, and a big grin on ruby red lips.

“Do I know you?” I asked, though I was certain I’d never before seen this Marilyn Monroe look-alike.

She pushed to her feet and came my way in a swish of the soft Briny body.
“Sort of.
We’ve talked a few times.”

My mouth dropped open. I recognized the voice.
“Weed Whacker?”
I asked.

She nodded. “When I heard the real Briny broke his leg and then the show about the killer, I figured you might need my help.”

Open-mouthed, I stared at the woman who I thought was a crazy stalker. I
laughed,
almost uncontrollable peals. As Martha Stewart would say in this case, a stalker was a good thing.

Weed Whacker stuck out her slender fingers. “My real name is Daisy.”

I reached out to shake, and Rachel made a break for the door. She disappeared around a corner.

“No,” I yelled and ran after her.

At the corner, I slammed into Adam and tottered. Like a
Weeble
, I wobbled but I didn’t fall down, thanks to Adam’s strong grip.

“Rachel! She’s getting away.” I screamed in his face but he held me tight.

“Nah, she’s right here.” Mitch rounded the corner with Rachel locked in his arms.

Adam gently removed the gun from my hand and gave it to Mitch.

Finger in the trigger ring, he held out the weapon to an officer who rushed into the room. “Bag it and get the equipment in here to process the scene.”

Adam ran his hands over my shoulders and looked me over from head to toe. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he pulled me into a fierce hug.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, his breath tickling the hairs by my ear.

He released me enough to breathe, and I stepped back, letting my fear whoosh out with each breath. “How did you find us?” I
asked,
my voice shaky.

His eyes turned sheepish. “I thought you might not call Lawson right away, so I did. He met me at your booth. When I found the booth empty, I knew you were in trouble.
As we were trying to figure out where you were, Mr. T kept saying, ‘Briny!
Briny!’
So we went into the crowd and asked people if they’d seen where Briny went. That led us here.” He turned to Mitch. “Now would be a good time to apologize for what you put Paige through.”

“Nothing to apologize for.
Was just doing my job.”
He snapped cuffs onto Rachel’s wrists.

I looked at the man who’d caused me so many problems. “I don’t get it, Mitch. You were so bent on arresting me yesterday. Why didn’t you?”

“After you left last night, Charlie Sweeny came in and told me about
Picklemann’s
affair with Stacey. Said he was leaving this little lady. Later that night,
Picklemann’s
financial information finally came in. Once I knew
Picklemann
stiffed Rachel, I figured she might have
more
cause for murder than you, but we couldn’t find her. Have her now, though.”

Rachel flashed a look of hatred my way.

I ignored her glare and faced Mitch. “So the affair was the secret Charlie threatened Bud with on the day he died?”

Mitch shook his head. “Charlie only found out about the affair yesterday.”

“Really?”
I glanced at Adam to see if he’d heard this news, but his wide-open eyes told me he hadn’t. “So how did Charlie find out something none of us could figure out?”

Mitch’s gaze settled on Rachel. “Charlie was delivering a prescription for anxiety medicine to Rachel and found her already a little loopy. He thought she was so distraught over losing
Picklemann
that she might accidentally overdose. So he told her he’d come back the next day and bring her the pills.”

Rachel growled in a low, almost guttural sound. “That man doesn’t know how to mind his own business.” She paused and let her lips curl in a snarl. “I couldn’t let Charlie leave with my pills—I needed them. So I told him about the affair and that I wouldn’t do myself in over that cheating weasel of a husband.” She puffed up her chest. “But as much as I wanted to, I didn’t tell him about killing Bud. I knew if I did, Charlie would never leave the pills with me.”

“Instead he came straight to the station to tell me about the affair.” Mitch tugged on Rachel’s cuffs and handed her off to another officer. “Take her to the station.”

Casting a final evil glare, Rachel was led away.

“So what was this secret Charlie was keeping about Bud?” I asked Mitch.

“I’m not at liberty to share that,” he answered.

I rolled my eyes so
hard,
I was surprised they didn’t do a full loop. “Oh, come on. You have to tell me.”

“All I can say is it has to do with a prescription Charlie dispensed for
Picklemann
.
A prescription that
Picklemann
wouldn’t want people in town to know about.”

“Bud really didn’t know people, did he? Charlie might be a bear, but he’s ethical. He’d never have told anyone about this.”

“No, but he wanted
Picklemann
to believe he would so he would quit pestering him about the
Leever
deal.”

“And that’s what they were arguing about in the park,” Adam said.

“Yes and at the church, too.
Picklemann
wanted one last score so he could leave town with Stacey and live in style.” Mitch glanced at his men. “Now if you don’t have any other questions I have
work
to do.”